Before we ran away from home, we discussed the hypothetical situations that would see us have to temporarily abandon our trip. It was probably the most logical thing we did in our planning stage, which was less planning and more having a beer and looking at photos of Cape York. Anyway, we talked about having a slush fund in case we had to go to a funeral, or what we’d do if the tenants trashed the house, or if one of us got sick (me) or eaten by a crocodile (him). And we talked about what would happen if our team, the mighty South Sydney Rabbitohs, made it to the NRL grand final.
We’ve contingency planned that one ever since we left Sydney almost eight years ago. We’ve always said, if we make a grand final, we go to Sydney. But given that the last time Souths booked a grand final berth was five years before I was born, we’ve never had to use it.
When we are 2000km away.
Without, like, jobs and income and stuff.
Driving 2000km to watch a game of footy sounds absolutely ridiculous. Because it is. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it.
Because this isn’t just any game of footy. This is the game of footy I have been waiting for my whole life.
Matt is being all practical and logical about why it’s a ridiculous idea, but a) logic has no place in footy b) everything we do is unpractical and illogical and c) he once drove from Brisbane to Sydney to buy a snake.
Matt said he doesn’t want me to hate him for saying that we shouldn’t go, and I said that was ok because I have heaps of other reasons I could use instead.
I don’t know what our contingency contingency plan is. Maybe we’ll try to find a caravan park that will show the game. Maybe we’ll find a campground within walking distance of a pub. Maybe heart will override head and we’ll end up gunning it down the coast.
It’s going to be a long week.